The western sentinel. [volume] (Winston-Salem, N.C.) 1887-1926, 1887-10-20
HEART-BROKE EN..MOTHER.
A PATHETIC STORY THAT EQU-
AIS IRVING AT HIS BEST.

AIS IRVING AT HIS BEST.
A Tale of the Privation, Work and
Self-Sacrifcing Love Of "a Mother
and How 1t was Repaid.
John ": Hays, Jr., in State Chronicle.
She was a'plump and motherly old
lady who bid me welcome the other
evening at farm house in Tennessee,
with bright eyes and soft voice that
even the brindle calf, the chickens
and the litter of little pups knew and
loved. She bustled about theroom,
carpeted with her own handiwork,
trundied the big arm chair to the fire
for the guest, busted the hearth with 8
turkey wing and famed the embers
till the blaze cracked and lit the
room with ruddy glow.
"Now move to the fire, sir" she
said, "for it's cool this evening, and
riding has chilled you I know. Faith
er will be in after little for supper,
but 1 think 1 had better bring you
some coffee right here" And without
waiting for an answer, she hustled
away on her kindly errand.
How cheerful the red light made
the room, throwing the dancing shad.
ows across the rag-work carpet and
touching with a comely tint, the plain
old furniture, while in strange con.
trast the polished frame of a grand
piano cleaned from under its heavy
draping. A woman's handiwork was
here, the patchwork quilt, the cush-
ioned chair, the white frilled curtain.
told of frugal care that had made
this HOME and made it beautiful.
But the house was still. A little
chair stood near the fireside, but only
a kitten curled in it and purred at the
glowing coals.
The little old lady had hustled
back, the coffee was on the Goals now,
and she kneeled to brown the white
bread and fan the fire again. The
hair was white beneath her cap, and
now that I noticed closely there were
lines on her face that do not always
come with years, and the eyes were
sad when she ceased to speak.
It was not curiosity to know why
the little chair was empty, nor whose
the portrait was that stood near the
old Bible, the slender girl in white
with flowers at her throat. There
was sympathy for the sad beautiful
face from the first and perhaps she
felt that her words touched an answer.
ing cord in my heart.
eyes, there were two, sir, little girls
both, and both are gone. We buried
one on the hill yonder, and the other
is out in the wide world somewhere
following worthless man. The Group
came one night, and came 80 sudden
sir. I walked and they were gasping
and moaning for breath. No doctor
lived near us then and 1 had never
seen the Group 80 bad. All we could
do was done, but no good came. Had
they been drowning I would have
done something. but it was awful, sir
to sit still and seee them gasp anc
struggle and die Annie was the
strongest and fought for life, but the
little four-year-old went down. I
saw it coming when the means grew
weaker and the sobs and cries t,
"mamma" were choked back in he
throat. She seemed to know ant
clung to me as if she were afraid t,
go. I've watched death take mel
and women, but that night it SCENE,
as if some awful thing had clutche.
my baby and was a-dragging her iron
out my arms. And it did. I hugge,
her up so close, but she died there
gasped and gasped till her little lif
went out.
1--WE buried her there on the hill
and then came back to Annie. No,
life, now death, it seemed, and throug
these long winter nights as I watche
her and fought death off, all the Low
had ever known grew into love 70
her. Yes, I watched over her an
prayed to the Good Lord till He drov
death away. But she grew up veal
ly and could never help about tn
milking and cooking and things, an,
baby, mamma is ADLER than you," T.
say when she would come round, an
then she would take a book and cul
up by the fire and read all day. Sue
book child you never saw, sir, an
she'd learn tunes as fast as they wei
sung. A heap more than "Jesus Lo,
er" and There is Fountain" tun,
that bothered me all up, but the
would sound pretty when she'd sin
them.
aI want to send that Baby off to
city school and make a lady out
her." her father would say when 81
had got up little. But we only hs
the old house and the farm and som
how it was hard to turn things in
money-and when father went dow
to the city to see if they would tai
chickens and butter and pies for pa
it wouldn't work. Annie was t,
years then.
"Well. I'm goipg to try my hand
says I, one day, "for that baby has e
to have chance" City people we
struggling into the mountains tn
and pretty soon I got a lady to wri
something about our farm and put
in the papers just to say we wou
J take boarders. The railroad h.
come to the foot of of the mountai
and soon my hands were full. Peevi
women came and brought bad chill
rem and babies and nurses from t
, city. Men would come in at all hou
of day and night and order meals, q
young fellows would shoot pistols
the house, and call me "old woma
to show how smart they were. B
they brought money, and money v
what / wanted for my baby's scho
ing. What is all this to making /